


Aftermath

by silvermoongirl10



Series: Memories warm you up from the inside. But they also tear you apart [2]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post modern Savoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-19 13:55:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22778824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silvermoongirl10/pseuds/silvermoongirl10
Summary: A one shot based on the aftermath of Operation Savoy mentioned in my other story (first in this series). It would be best to read that one first.In the aftermath of Operation Savoy. Porthos must find a way to bring his boyfriend back to him, the loss of his five teammates is taking Aramis to his breaking point.
Relationships: Aramis | René d'Herblay/Porthos du Vallon
Series: Memories warm you up from the inside. But they also tear you apart [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1637599
Kudos: 13





	Aftermath

**April 2015**

Porthos, Athos and d’Artagnan were sat enjoying their lunch, usually Aramis was with them but he had been kept busy with Operation Savoy. Porthos had just been regaling his two friends of the antics of some of the kids in his care, when his phone rang. Without looking he reached into his pocket and pulled out his mobile phone to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Porthos. It’s Captain Treville.”

Porthos’ eyes widened and his heart began to pound as he gripped his phone tightly to his ear. Athos became alert seeing the panicked look on Porthos’ face.

“Where is he?” asked Porthos, his voice barely above a whisper. Knowing for Treville to call him, then something had happened to Aramis.

“He’s at the District Hospital,” Treville’s voice broke on the last word. That more than anything made Porthos’ heart pound faster.

“How is he?” whispered Porthos in a broken voice. Athos stood and came to kneel beside him, gripping his arm in silent comfort.

Treville took a deep breath and then replied, “he’s in surgery, he was shot in shoulder. But Porthos…”

“Captain?” The pitch of Porthos’ voice raised in worry. What else could have happened? A wounded shoulder didn’t account for the pain in Treville’s voice.

“Aramis’ team was ambushed…” here Treville took a deep, shaky breath. “Aramis is the only survivor.”

Porthos paused. “You mean, the rest of the team? ...They’re…?”

“They’re gone Porthos. All of them.”

* * *

Athos drove Porthos to the hospital. On the way there Porthos sat in the passenger seat, his hands clasped together with his head bent forward. Aramis’ team was like his family, and within seconds they were all gone.

Sergeant Ian ‘Stan’ Stanley

Officer Luke Barlow

Officer Ellis Morrow

Officer Freddie Mendoza

Officer Nate Sellers

All of them gone.

Stan was the one who brought Aramis onto Team Six. He defied anyone who said a young Officer like Aramis couldn’t possibly last on SWAT. Stan mentored Aramis personally, together they proved everyone wrong. Aramis has always looked up to and respected Stan. Stan is his hero.

Luke Barlow, Stan’s second in command, the lead sniper of Team Six. He saw the potential Aramis had. He trained Aramis up as a sniper. Luke often handed over sniper responsibility to Aramis, he saw that Aramis was the best eyes they had on the team and was proud to help Aramis hone his skill.

Ellis Morrow was the big brother of the team, he was the one always happy to play a joke but the first to get serious and get the job done. He freely admitted that he had been sceptical of a young Aramis joining the team, but was also the first to admit that he had been wrong to judge Aramis so harshly and quickly. He was Aramis’ biggest defender on the team, if he caught anyone bad mouthing Aramis, he soon let them know about their mistake.

Freddie Mendoza and Nate Sellers were Aramis’ best friends, the three of them often met up outside of work. There would often be prank wars declared between them, with Ellis moderating the wars.

Team Six was a family. The teammates’ families would also often meet up. Porthos knew the wives, partners and children of each team member and he couldn’t imagine what they were going through. However, Porthos also felt guilty. Here he was relieved that Aramis was coming home to him, but the other families’ lives were changed forever. He wondered how he would ever meet their eyes again. He kept what they had all lost.

* * *

Porthos barely listened to the Doctor, he was already rushing towards the room he was told Aramis was in.

He stumbled into the room to see Treville stood by Aramis’ bedside, trying to get the young man to stay in bed. “Aramis,” he softly said. He took in the sight of his boyfriend as Aramis turned to face him.

Aramis’ face was deathly pale, his right shoulder was wrapped in bandages and Porthos’ heart broke seeing the empty brown eyes he loved so much. It was as if Aramis’ life and soul had been drained out of him.

Porthos opened his arms once he reached the edge of the bed and hugged Aramis gently. Treville silently left the room and Aramis folded into him and his breathing shuddered as he tried to contain his sobs. Porthos shifted his boyfriend so Aramis’ face was tucked into the crook of his neck.

“I’m here ‘Mis. I’m here,” Porthos murmured into Aramis’ hair, he felt his neck become wet as Aramis couldn’t contain his tears anymore.

“They’re gone ‘thos,” sobbed Aramis, he gripped Porthos’ shirt with his left hand. In response Porthos hugged Aramis as tight as he dared. All Porthos could do was repeat ‘I’m here’, he was at a loss of what else he could say. Aramis had lost his team, his brothers, and nothing Porthos could say would change that.

* * *

If Porthos thought waiting for Aramis to be discharged was bad, then the wait for the five funerals was torture.

From the moment Aramis arrived home, he became non-verbal. It broke Porthos’ heart to see Aramis curl up, smushed into the corner of the sofa and not move all day. He would barely eat, Porthos could see how hard it was for Aramis to swallow the few bites he could. At night, Aramis never slept through, his sleep was disrupted with nightmares and often it took minutes for Porthos to soothe Aramis back into a fitful sleep. The dark circles under his boyfriend’s eyes grew darker and darker. Porthos felt helpless and it didn’t matter how many meals Aramis’ mother made for them or how many times Aramis’ parents and sisters, along with Athos and d’Artagnan, came to visit. Aramis never talked, he remained in his curled-up position, staring off into the distance, seeing things only he could see. His chocolate brown eyes remained dimmed and lifeless. Porthos felt like he was fighting a loosing battle. Despite Aramis surviving the bust gone wrong, Porthos feared that he was going to lose his boyfriend anyway.

The wait for the funerals seemed to make things worse for Aramis, it was like a noose hanging above him, just waiting to choke him at a moment’s notice.

The stitches were removed from Aramis’ shoulder and still there was no life to be seen in him.

The morning of the first funeral, Aramis seemed to rouse himself out of the daze he had been existing in. It couldn’t be called living. Aramis was such a happy person, who loved to laugh and on the odd occasion sing. But this. It wasn’t who Aramis was.

Despite having his stitches removed from his shoulder, Aramis had to wear a sling. His shoulder was stiff and sore, so Porthos had to help his boyfriend put on his dress uniform. The white sling stuck out against the dark navy of Aramis’ uniform. The two of them stood side by side, both looking into the full-length mirror. Porthos thought back to Aramis’ Police Academy graduation, they had a photograph of the two of them from that day, they had been smiling and laughing. They were not laughing or smiling anymore. Even the dark hair that stuck out under Aramis’ cap looked lifeless.

Looking at Aramis in the mirror, Porthos took in how exhausted Aramis looked. Porthos felt like he was about to break at the seams and he couldn’t comprehend how Aramis must be feeling. To his surprise, Aramis straightened his shoulders and raised his head, it was as if the lifeless person in front of him was transformed. Aramis stared at himself with hardened eyes and then spoke his first sentence in ten days. “Better get going, otherwise we’ll be late.”

* * *

The funeral for Sergeant Stanley was unbearable. Porthos and Treville sat either side of Aramis to support him, but they couldn’t get up and stand beside him when he went to the front and spoke about Stan. Somehow Aramis found the strength to look Stan’s family in the eye and talk about how kind and brave he was to people they met on the streets, how strict but caring he was to his team. Aramis kept his back straight and head held high throughout the service, but the moment he got back home he crumpled in the doorway.

Porthos manged to fling the front door closed and slow Aramis’ descent to the floor. Aramis took deep, shuddering breaths as he lost the fight against his grief. They sat curled together on the floor for nearly an hour while Aramis just broke apart for the first time since his lost his team ten days before.

This repeated for the remaining four funerals. While Porthos found it hard to look the families of the fallen in the eye, Aramis would make his speech at each funeral looking the families’ in the eyes. Then each time they returned home Aramis would fall apart in the hall way.

At night, Aramis was not the only one haunted.

While Aramis was tortured by the memories of losing his team. Porthos was haunted by finding himself at a funeral, no Aramis beside him and instead a folded flag put in his hands. He was in the same place as the other families. He had lost Aramis and his heart was permanently broken in two.

He would wake with a pained cry ripped from his throat and found Aramis leaning up next to him, brushing his fingers through Porthos’ hair whispering, “I’m here Porthos, I’m here.”

Porthos cried for what might have been and what was. He knew life would never be the same again.

* * *

Three weeks after the loss of his five teammates, Aramis returned to work on light duty. Porthos found he was antsy all day, while he knew light duty meant desk work, he couldn’t help but fear that he was going to lose Aramis. After three weeks of having Aramis in his sight, it wasn’t easy not seeing his boyfriend all day.

Aramis returned home and went back to being non-verbal. Porthos itched to pry out of Aramis what was bothering him. He knew Aramis bottling up his feelings wasn’t good and he feared what would happen if he couldn’t breath life back into Aramis.

It came to head that night. They went to sleep together, but Porthos woke in the middle of the night to an empty bed. Panicked, he searched the house desperately for a sign of his boyfriend. He didn’t find one, and was on the brink of calling Treville, fearing what Aramis might do in his current mind set. When, through the kitchen window, he caught a glimpse of his missing boyfriend, just stood in the back garden.

He hurried to open the back door and rushed to Aramis’ side, noting his boyfriend was just in his pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt with nothing on his feet. He was shivering and didn’t seem to notice as he stared blankly up at the night sky.

“Aramis. Come inside,” begged Porthos as he wrapped his arms around his freezing boyfriend.

“I can’t do it,” murmured Aramis, still looking up at the stars.

“Of course, you can. Just put one foot in front of the other,” smiled Porthos, although his smile didn’t reach his eyes. In fact, despite his control, his eyes began to fill with tears.

Aramis shook his head, his face crumpling. “Not that.”

“What then?” asked Porthos as he gripped Aramis tighter to him.

Aramis opened and closed his mouth a few times, all that came out was gasping breaths as he tried to control his panic. “Treville wants me to be the new Sergeant of Team Six.”

Porthos’ eyes closed in understanding, he leaned forward and rested his chin on the top of Aramis’ head. “And you don’t want it,” he stated.

Aramis’ body shook, from both cold and grief. “I _can’t_ have it. I _can’t_ lead a new team of new SWAT Officers. _I can’t_!”

“You’d be able to train them up right Aramis, I have faith in you,” commented Porthos.

Aramis ripped himself away from Porthos and spun to face him with wild eyes filled with tears. “ _You don’t_ _understand Porthos!_ ” cried Aramis, “I _can’t_ get to know a new team. I _can’t_ befriend them. I _can’t_ become their brother. _Not anymore_!”

It was then that Porthos began to understand what was troubling Aramis this late at night. Aramis’ chest heaved as he tried to keep his tears at bay, his breath pooling out in a thin cloud of mist.

“Aramis it’s normal to fear getting to know new teammates after what you have been through,” comforted Porthos as he raised his hands to rub them soothingly up and down Aramis’ arms. “But you can do it.”

“ _No, I can’t!_ ” sobbed Aramis, his shoulders shook as tears began to slip down his cheeks. “I can’t choose them for my team and I can’t befriend them. I can’t lose five more teammates. _I can’t do that again_.” He raised his hands up to cover his face. “I can’t do it Porthos. Not again.”

Porthos pulled Aramis into a tight embrace. His own throat was tight from fighting tears, but he managed to say. “I can’t promise you won’t lose another teammate.” At this Aramis sobbed harder, in response Porthos ran his fingers through Aramis’ hair, “but I _can promise you this_. Whatever happens you will _always_ have me.” His kissed Aramis’ forehead and then began to gently lead Aramis back into the house.

Throughout the next week, Porthos would drop Aramis off at work and pick him up. Once Aramis’ new team had been chosen, Porthos came to team gatherings, Athos and d’Artagnan came along as well, to show Aramis that like Porthos, they would always be there to support him.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Aramis began to look healthier. He began to eat more; he could sleep through the night and so the paleness of his skin disappeared along with the dark circles under his eyes. Sometimes he would have bad days, if this happened on a weekend, he would curl up in the corner of the sofa and stare blankly at the wall. On these days, Porthos would curl up next to Aramis and hug his boyfriend to him and keep talking until Aramis responded.

Thankfully over time, Aramis’ good days far out weighed his bad days. Porthos’ heart lightened when Aramis began to laugh and smile again with no hint of the horrors that had plagued him. One day Porthos knew Aramis would achieve justice for his fallen brothers, he just hoped and prayed that he wouldn’t lose Aramis when that time came.


End file.
